Isolde's Tales
by Songworthy
Summary: "One year ago, I swore I'd never come back here again." Corrin returns to the Northern Fortress after the events of Birthright.


One year ago, I swore I'd never come back here again.

But here I am, poking through my old belongings at the Northern Fortress.

My birth siblings and I had travelled to Windmire to observe Leo's coronation. It was a fantastic ceremony, and the celebration afterwards was to die for. I loved celebrations in Hoshido, but a huge part of me missed the gigantic ballrooms and elegant flair of the Nohrian culture. I also hadn't had wheat-based bread in ages! Gods, how I missed it.

Once the commotion had died down, I asked my old friend to accompany me to the Northern Fortress. Gunter scowled, puzzled by my request. He asked why I would want to return to that awful place.

"There's something I'd like to pick up while we're there," I smiled.

It was already late into the evening once we left Windmire, and when we arrived, most of the fortress' inhabitants are asleep. Gunter stayed outside to speak with the guards on duty, so I am currently in my room alone.

I walk over to my old bed, still flawlessly made from the day of my departure. Flora was always so particular about the bed looking nice, even though I thought it was pointless. I would just ruin all her work again the next night when I went to sleep. However, I still appreciated how hard she worked to make sure I was cared for.

Across the room, a blue, floral tea set is still arranged nicely on the table. I chuckle to myself as I remember the time Felicia had shattered one of the cups of Jakob's favorite set. She and I were singing and dancing around the room, when she bumped the table and the cup fell to the floor, unfortunately missing the carpet by an inch. Shards were everywhere. Jakob was angry, but I told him that I never liked the tea set anyway. I fibbed and said that the blue set was my favorite, to which he sighed and retrieved it from the other room. And there it is, still in my bedroom, like no time had passed since then.

Rising from the bed, I trace the edge of the carpet with my footsteps and pass the standing mirror. I sneak a quick peek at myself, and imagine Camilla standing there with me, making a fuss over my clothes. "You're too cute to have so much dirt on your clothes", she would say. I smile.

Next to the mirror is the bookshelf. I run my finger along the edge and make a line in the dust, and I look up while rubbing the filth between my fingers. On the top shelf, I notice the chess set that my Nohrian siblings and I would so often play. Chess was Leo's favorite game, and, of course, he would beat me every time. I always knew he was a genius, and unfortunately, he knew, too. But as smart as he was, he always had trouble putting on his clothes right.

I scan the books on the middle shelf and finally find what I had come for: A slim book with a dark leather cover. The letters on the spine had been worn off for years, but I still remember the title well; it is _Isolde's Tales_ , a collection of fictional stories about a young princess. Isolde goes on fantastic adventures and is the most daring, yet most beautiful, princess of all. The stories are extremely unrealistic, yet the book was Elise's favorite. I would read the stories to her every night she came to visit, and she would snuggle in my arms until she fell asleep.

Clutching the book to my chest, I make my way over to the window. I push it open and hop onto the ledge like I always did. A nice breeze is coming through, and I breathe in the fresh air. Peering out over the fortress roof, I could almost see Xander outside practicing his swings in the moonlight. His training intrigued me growing up, and I would watch him for hours at night, listening to his sword slicing the air and watching his footwork. I truly admired his perseverance, and strived to be like him in every way.

I guess I had to be my own trainer now.

Elise… Xander…

Tears drop onto the old, worn cover of _Isolde's Tales_.

One year ago, I swore I'd never come back here again.

But this time, I swear I won't come back for a different reason. It's not because of the draftiness of the fortress. It's not because of the same, boring meals. It's not because I dream of the outside world.

It's because I can't bear the flood of memories I receive after returning to this place.


End file.
